Cleansed
by parttimeficwriter
Summary: Post 8.8 Ruth finally tells Harry how she feels


**This has been half written for months and I've finally managed a little bit of time to get it finished. It's loosely set after a fic I wrote a while ago called 'Reverence' but can work as a stand alone too. **

**For Emma, who has been a very good friend to me over the last few months. *hugs* Love you Pea x**

* * *

"Sweet tea," she says, softly, her eyes holding his as she hands him the steaming mug of tea.

"How very English," he counters enjoying the way her lips curl up into a brief smile at his response. He gestures for her to sit down and squashes a sudden, and ridiculous, urge to touch his knee against hers as she takes the seat to his left and rests her mug on the table top.

"It always makes me think of you," she says, seemingly out of nowhere, and he notes the slight tremor in her fingers as she wraps her hands around the cup to soak up some of the heat it radiates.

"And did you?" he asks, gently, unable to hold the question inside, "think of me I mean."

"Yes," she whispers as her eyes close against her memories of that time. _Too much_, she adds, silently, _far too much._

_Not enough_, he thinks, sadly, as he watches her close her eyes and misinterprets what it implies. Ruth hears his sigh and in the split second that their eyes meet she knows what he is thinking. The depth of sadness and longing held in his dark brown eyes is almost more than she can bear to see but she knows that, if she's brave enough, she can ease some of his hurt.

"I didn't just jump in to bed with him at the first opportunity," she murmurs, still holding his gaze.

He swallows past the lump that has formed in his throat and his gaze softens a fraction as he regards her openly. "I don't imagine that you did, Ruth."

Her eyes shut in momentary relief. Grateful, so very grateful, that the man sat beside her knows her, _understands_ that it wasn't about sex. Her fingers trace the lines of the wood grain as she keeps her gaze anywhere but with Harry. "He asked me out every day for weeks, and then, when he stopped asking, when he'd finally given up any hope that I'd say yes, I asked him. I was afraid," she confesses, "Afraid of being alone and lonely. Forever."

He can see how hard it is for her to tell him this and tries to spare her. "Ruth, you don't have to explain."

"I do, Harry. I need to, for both our sakes."

He nods and picks up his cup, tilting it towards her momentarily. "Then I think we might need something stronger than tea."

Ruth cradles her tumbler as she watches Harry drink his steadily. She can remember a dozen times, maybe more, when she's seen him do this and yet there is something about the way in which his lip rests against the rim of the glass and how his Adams apple moves as he swallows that makes it such an intimate thing. The answering flash of desire doesn't surprise her, she knows, even if he doesn't, that her attraction to him has never wavered, but what is surprising is that there is no guilt attached to it. She smiles, softly, as the hope blossoms in her heart that perhaps, just this once, everything might work out right for them.

She takes a sip from her drink and tries, unsuccessfully, to hide the sudden tremble of her fingers. "I haven't been completely honest with you," she blurts, as he catches her eye, and she can see the pain that he is trying so desperately to mask, "about George. And why we never got married." He doesn't speak and the intense vulnerability that he radiates is almost her undoing. "I made you think that it was because we didn't need it, didn't need a piece of paper to tell us we were committed to one another..."

"I remember," he cuts in, voice hoarse with emotion, the memory of that time raw and fresh in his mind.

She swallows and nods, eager to move on from the painful memories but nervous about the step she is about to take. "I was happy with him, or I thought I was, until he asked me to become his wife," her eyes bore into his, begging him to hear her out, to let her confess and she takes a shaky breath as he nods his head, silently encouraging her to finish what she has started. "How could I promise to share my life, my love with him," her voice catches and the first tears spill down her cheeks as she struggles with her emotions, "and only him, when there was already someone else in my heart? I laughed it off and teased him about who we wouldn't be inviting, I let him think that one day, one day there might be a chance that I'd say yes..." she gives a short, bitter laugh, her self-loathing evident. He wants to comfort her, to reach out his hand and touch his fingers against hers but he knows that she needs to do this on her own. He also knows that when it's over she won't be alone anymore, neither of them will.

"He was a sweet, gentle, caring man," she pauses for a moment and wipes the back of her hand across her face unceremoniously before taking a deep breath to centre herself. "He loved me more than I deserved but he wasn't you."

Ruth watches him from under her lashes, almost shyly, as his head drops back against the back of the chair and his eyes close. The look that crosses his face can only be described as blessed relief and the stirring of hope that she had felt earlier flares into life once more.

"Harry-" she begins, only to be stopped by the love shining in his eyes as he turns to look at her.

Slowly, he reaches across the gap between them and cups her cheek with his left hand, his thumb idly caresses her bottom lip as a warm smile appears on his lips. "I love you," he whispers, quietly and then laughs suddenly. "I've waited so long to say that to you," he says by way of an explanation.

"I know, I'm so-" he stops her suddenly with the gentle pressure of his thumb against her mouth.

"I think you've said more than enough," he whispers, his warm breath caressing her cheek as he leans in to her, "don't you?" And then his mouth is against her, his lips, soft and warm against hers as they move together.

There will be time later, she thinks, for apologies and heartfelt declarations. For now it is enough to have his mouth pressed against hers and their hearts open to one another.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Please leave a review. **


End file.
